By Alan B. Combs. Stan Kegel asked me to expand a snippet I wrote many moons ago. Thus, the following.

The wild and wooly west was replete with adventure and potential riches. Magical artifacts were reputed to be abundant and highly sought after. One little town, La Poema, near the Superstition Mountains became famous for a particular enchanted pebble that they made available for viewing in the public library.

The locals particularly appreciated the sight of strangers touching the stone and helplessly bursting into verse. For example, a hardtack miner spouted, “Dagnabit, this mangy rabbit, has a bad habit…” before he was able to pull his hand away. An elderly spinster was heard to say, “While playing scrabble, with the local rabble, who like to gabble, I’d like to dabble…”, and then she jerked her hand back before getting even more in trouble. A child with consumption touched the pebble and complained, “Ruin and wrack, spew and hack. Alas, alack. True health I lack, I’m going back, to…” before he was dragged away.

One cowhand observer knew better than to touch the stone. However, his curiosity made him ask the locals, “What is that pebble that makes these people spout all those words that sound so much alike?”

The only possible answer came back, “It’s a rhyme stone, cowboy!”